


A New Job

by Bookshido



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, Phone Guy is a Doushe, mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookshido/pseuds/Bookshido
Summary: It’s Mike Schmidt’s first day on the job and his boss and predecessor run through how his job is going to go.





	A New Job

**Author's Note:**

> This is a cool little fic that i managed to write in two days and procrastinated on an essay about, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

“Follow me this way, Schmidt,” Mr. Perkins, the manager, droned, leading him around the back of the building. “I have to let you in the back entrance so we don’t interfere with the cleaning crew.”

Michael Schmidt nodded, a stray lock of black hair slipping loose from it’s precise gelled state. He casually pushed it back in place when his new employer had to turn away and unlock the back door. It had been painted black to match the back wall of the building and was marked ‘Employees Only’ in bright red lettering. If not for the lettering, he wouldn’t have noticed the door at all. After placing the hair and watching his new manager struggle with keys, his gaze fell on his beat up Acura Integra, parked next to a shiny new Honda Accord that was parked under a lit up street lamp. A cuss of victory from his manager made his head whip around and he was nearly left outside by how fast the door tried to shut after the manager.

Inside the back area, the hallway was almost pitch black and the single light over head flickered at about the rate of a strobe light. Mr. Perkins seemed undeterred and hurried forward down the hall. Mike followed as fast as he could, barely giving the kitchen a passing glance as he went by. Perkins stopped suddenly and Mike very nearly ran into the portly older man, but was able to catch himself in just enough time.

“Your office is back here,” the manager instructed, pointing around the corner to where a steel door with yellow safety markings was solidly shut. “It’s a little small, but you should be fine on space.”

Mike nodded, glancing over the walls of the hallway around him. He frowned, brow wrinkling when he spotted a news clipping almost completely covered by childrens’ drawings. While his manager tried to work the keypad, Mike took a step closer, only able to make out the headline.

 _Local Pizzeria Threatened with Shutdown over Sanitation_ , Mike read, the frown deepening.

“Mike, come on,” the manager barked, making him spin around. “You need to get all set up as soon as possible. It’s already 11:30.”

Mike nodded silently, slipped on a calm expression, and followed Perkins into the office through the now open door. The office was indeed tiny and a rickety metal fan whirred on the desk. Mike’s gaze traveled over the walls that had been papered with drawings of the mascots to the other door that Perkins was approaching. A desk was near the back of the room and a large computer setup was in place, the screen covered in static that flickered in and out.

“So, like I told you in the interview, this shift is from 12:00 AM to 6:00 AM,” Perkins repeated in a bored tone, walking over to the other door and entering a code into the pin-pad. “This is going to be the first and only time I do these pin-pads manually. Normally, they are controlled by a computer and automatically open at 12. They can shut from your desk setup if you ever feel threatened. Had to put them in because of a new company policy.”

Mike’s confused expression must have been more obvious than he expected because Mr. Perkins continued talking.

“Something about an accident at a sister location,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. “Plus, these doors are rated nuclear attacks, so if the commies try to attack, all you’ve got to do is slam these doors down and ride out the nuclear storm. Just press the big red buttons and they’ll shut right away.”

Mike was almost about to laugh at his new boss’s statement, but seeing how serious the older man was made him hold it in. 

“Take a seat over there,” Perkins ordered, gesturing behind the desk. “And I’ll finish filling you in.”

Mike stepped easily behind the desk and sank into the vinyl chair, wincing at the squeak the seat made when he leaned back.

“What you have to do is keep an eye on all of the cameras and make sure no one breaks in or is trying to mess with anything inside,” Perkins continued. “We’ve had enough issues with lawsuits that we don’t need anything else happening. Mainly keep an eye on the characters. They have some pretty expensive systems in their servos.”

“Yes, sir,” Mike replied, not looking at Perkins and instead staring at some of the artwork.

They were almost all children’s drawings of the characters that featured on the street sign outside. Almost all of the drawings had the animatronics featuring solid black eyes and what seemed to be claws.

“Because of economic concerns, the night facilities are run off of a backup generator that has a limited power supply,” Perkins said boredly before walking over to behind the desk past Mike’s chair. “So you’ve got to keep an eye on that as you go through the night. If the generator runs out of power, all of your electronics and cameras are going to go down, so I’d keep a pretty tight handle on your consumption.”

Perkins lifted up a simple tape player and set it on the desk before pulling a tape out his pocket.

“The last night manager left this with strict instructions that I should pass this onto the new hire,” he said before putting the tape into the player. “And he said that you should only listen to them after your shift officially begins. I don’t know why, he was always sort of weird.”

Perkins shrugged and walked around the desk yet again to stand behind the computer. Mike peered around the device to watch Perkins grasp a stack of wires and shove them haphazardly into various receptacles on the back of the computer. The static almost immediately cleared to show a clear view of the hallway they had just been in. Mike leaned back in his chair again and flicked through the cameras quickly, each switch making a loud, yet fuzzy click. He finally landed on the main stage and stared the animatronics. The camera only showed their heads, but they looked dilapidated and, much like the rest of restaurant, seemed on the verge of being shut down. Their velveteen fabric exteriors were matted and flat instead of the lush texture of his youth and were stained with brown splotches. Despite the fabric, it was obvious that they had a metal frame underneath and the metal there was dented in all kinds of places, some of the most prominent clearly in the shape of children’s hands. He scanned their faces: Bonnie, then Freddie, then Chica. But as his eyes landed on Chica, a quick flicker from the left side of the screen made his eyes shoot over. Did Bonnie’s hand just-

“Alright, I think that’s almost everything,” Perkins said with a huff, pulling Mike’s attention back to the present. “The doors do have lights attached to them, that can be activated by the white buttons that are above the green ones. So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Good luck.”

Perkins hurried out, his footsteps vanishing down the hall. It was almost completely silent, save for the metal fan on the table across the room that whirred at it’s standard pace and created an almost white noise bubble throughout the office. Some noises could still be heard around the building, but most were drowned out by the constant whir. Mike leaned back and hit play on the tape player, studying the camera for only a second before he switched it to the left hallway.

“Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night,” a scratchy voice announced through the tape player.  “Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I’m finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I’m here to tell you there’s nothing to worry about. Uh, you’ll do fine. So, let’s just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?”

Mike chuckled, leaning back in his seat and drumming his fingers on the desk while the phone guy talked. He casually flicked between the cameras and huffed, not seeing any issues before he landed on the main stage. Seeing no issues with the main stage, he leaned a lazy arm out and began to play with one of the door buttons, closing and opening both of them in quick succession.

“Uh, let’s see, first there’s an introductory greeting from the company that I’m supposed to read. Uh, it’s kind of a legal thing, you know,” the phone guy said, a sheepish tone slipping into his voice and making Mike laugh.

“Um, ‘Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced’,” the phone guy stated.

As the phone guy kept talking, Mike’s grin slipped away to one of gape-jawed shock. A shiver ran down his spine and he gave a nervous glance around him, suddenly feeling deeply out of place.

“Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there’s really nothing to worry about,” the phone guy said confidently.  “Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.”

Mike coughed awkwardly and shifted nervously in his chair. He glanced over at the camera screen and his whole body stiffened at the sight before him. .

On the camera, where the main preforming stage was, there was one, two… only two animatronics where there had been three. Bonnie the Bunny was missing. Only Chica and Freddy remained. A panicked feeling set in and he flicked through the cameras again, finally landing on the backstage area-

“So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they’re left in some kind of free roaming mode at night,” the phone guy said, as a small squeak escaped Mike.

“Uh…Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long,” phone guy explained. “Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of ‘87. Yeah. I-It’s amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know? Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won’t recognize you as a person. They’ll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that’s against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, they’ll probably try to…forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn’t be so bad if the suits themselves weren’t filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area.”

Mike squeaked again, clutching the mouse more tightly and remembering the one time he had dared to get close to one as a kid. There had been a glint of silver under the jaws and stared red lights for eyes. The kind of stuff to give children nightmares.

“So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort…and death,” the recording finished lamely. “Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.”

Mike’s own eyes were practically bugging out the continued talking.

“Y-Yeah, they don’t tell you these things when you sign up,” the phone guy lamented. “But hey, first day should be a breeze. I’ll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night.”

Mike stared at the cassette player when the Phone Guy hung up with a click. His breathing began to increase and he could hear his heart beating as he turned back to the desk to flick through the cameras.

96% power. Five more hours.


End file.
